Last Stand (4) - Fall

"Again."

Shit. Shit. No. Not again. "I can't," I whispered back.

"Look at me, Sasha." Andrei paused for me to shift around and meet his eyes. "I'm asking you to do it. You said you'd do anything I asked, didn't you?"

I can play that game too, you know. "You want to go through that again?"

He laughed hard. "But look at you, Sasha. I'm so proud of you." I would have sworn he was the devil himself. "No, I'd rather not, thank you. As you know, it's not a pleasant experience. But I'd love to see you do it."

Shit. I couldn't help sighing hard. "You're completely nuts, Andrei. You know, you remind me of her." ...  of Key, of course.

He laughed at the idea. "She used to do the same, didn't she? Yet you never had a problem going after her."

I sighed. "It was different, you know. Just a game, just messing around, nothing serious."

"So, like this. You know, you have to mess it pretty badly for it to turn into something serious."

Shit. "You sound exactly like her, Andrei." Which I had come to think, wasn't exactly a good thing. I had realized they were much more similar than I would have liked to admit.

He managed to keep the grinny mask on, but something in him changed. "That's why you're here isn't it?"

Shit. He was good at words too. You see, it requires a special kind of person to play that game -- to still keep control when you can't really do anything.

"Look at me. You still care too much about everything, Sasha. That boy who would rather be a plant is still there, isn't he?"

I interrupted him. "I care about you, you know."

He closed his eyes, his smile vanishing."You think I don't care about you, boy? ... You know I do." He opened his eyes again, but the sea had frozen. "That doesn't mean I can't get over it and do what I have to."

I couldn't help hugging him.

"You think it doesn't hurt? Huh? Well, news flash, yes it does. I care about you more than you seem to think, Sasha. But I can't -- I won't let that stop me from doing what's necessary. I need you to do the same. To get over yourself and do what you have to do. Kill that kid already. Take my hand, I'll be your guide on the road to hell."

"You don't get it. I'd rather die than hurt you."

He sighed, almost giving up. "You're an idiot. I don't deserve that, you know. I deserve everything you can throw at me and then some. And you know it."

"So what."

He sighed again. "Okay. Oh-kay. Help me with the cuffs, will you?"

I quickly freed him, and he rushed to hug me. "I'm sorry, Sasha. I know I'm being hard on you. I just... You care too damn much about everything. You can't afford that in this place. You're too nice, don't you see?"

"I just care about you, that's it. I'm trying to get over myself with the targets, I swear. But--"

"But it's not the same with me." He pushed me back to look into my eyes. "Question. And be honest. They -- the US, the wolves, a madman, whatever. They get us both. They soon realize I'm not saying shit, so they turn to you. And of course they're not idiots so they try to get you by hurting me. Badly. The wolves can be worse than me. Anyway. What do you do."

I sighed. "There's no point in fighting if you're not gonna make it."

"Sasha that's--" Treason.

"I know. But once you're not here, who's gonna fight your war? Me? What's even the point? They've won. So, live to fight the next battle. Rather than die and lose the war."

He sighed. "Had you ever thought of that?"

I couldn't help laughing. "It's what Key used to say. No point in dying needlessly."

"Well, I guess she had a point. Anyway. Look at me." As if I could look anywhere else -- he was about a foot in front of me, and still held me in a loose hug. "What do you want, Sasha."

I closed my eyes. "I want to be here. I like the place, I like the job. I want to be with you."

"Yet you're too damn nice to be here, Sasha. Don't you see. Not everyone is meant for this job. Not everybody can." He knew exactly what he was saying, of course. "Are you sure you want this? Because, if you do, then I have to tell you, the test is not over."

I dove again into his chest. "Don't let me go. I know I still have a long way ahead, but don't let me go."

"Look at me, Sasha." He waited for me to shift back. "What does that mean. Do you realize what it means? It's not just literal, is it?"

"I told you. Take me. Take my soul. Take everything. But don't let me go."

He hauled me aside with a half-smirk in his eyes, and went to search for something in his jacket.

He came back with two guns -- his lucky roulette revolver, and the fully loaded pistol for when he actually had to shot at something -- or someone. He carelessly spun the revolver's cylinder, and briefly closed his eyes before closing it, then he shoved it into my hand, before sitting by my side.

"Now, Sasha. This is a test. So, don't you fail me. I swear I don't know where the jackpot is." He pointed at the revolver with his chin. "Point it at my head and pull the trigger."

No. No I can't. You know well I can't.

He shifted closer to me and let the pistol's barrel rest against my temple. "Or else."

I looked into his eyes. It was like looking at a frozen sea. A vast plain of emptiness. "I can't."

"Well, I swear I can and will. So, one in six, or your life. Choose carefully." He wasn't trying to hide anything anymore, it was obvious that he didn't want to, that he'd regret it. And that knowing all that wouldn't stop him.

I closed my eyes. Shit. Did I have a choice? One in six wasn't that bad, was it?

Click.

I opened my eyes to find back his smile, the sea thawed and gleaming. The revolver scurried through my hands as a live animal. It fell to the tiled floor with a clatter. I couldn't bring myself to smile. I was still trapped in a mind loop, fully realizing what could've happened.

So he hugged me again, hard, almost taking my breath away. "Well done, Sasha. I'm proud of you."

"You're completely nuts, you know." I managed to say.

"Look who's talking." He laughed.

"Do you realize what you've done, Andrei?" I sighed. "How it feels?" I felt sick. Almost physically. Knowing that he could kill me was no news, but still hurt. But realizing... realizing I could have lost him... Fuck. No. I hugged him harder.

"I'm sorry, Sasha. Yes I know. I'm just trying to help. You need to let go, to get over your nonsense."

"Well, it only made me realize how next time I'm not doing it, and to hell with everything. I swear, I'd rather die."

"You can be such a drama queen, boy. One in six is--"

"You can't understand, can you?"

He sighed. Yes, he could. But he couldn't explain. He finally pulled back from the bear hug and looked into my eyes. "What are you willing to do, then." There was a hint of sadness behind his half-smile.

I sighed hard. "Anything that doesn't involve risking your life, you reckless fool."

He lightened up. "Okay, so let me see that." He reached for the handcuffs again, and threw them at me. "Will you help?"

"Why are you doing this."

"You said anything, didn't you?"

I sighed as I helped him, gently restraining his wrists behind his back.

He leaned back, looking at me, a playful grin in his eyes. "Okay, Sasha. Show me your worst. Make me regret this decision. Make me stop you."

I looked at him. My worst. So, tell me. How much do you care? Enough? I couldn't help grinning as I reached for his pistol and took it to my temple. "I've told you I'd rather die than hurt you. Stop me, or I swear I'll pull the trigger."

He laughed, but I could clearly see behind the mask. He did care. More than enough. "You're a cheating bastard, Sasha."

"Yeah. Now stop me."

He had a sad smirk in his eyes, not fully covering the realization that he, too, would do anything for me. "Okay, you win. Don't do that. Stop it, Sasha. And help me with the cuffs, will you?"

I tossed the gun onto the bedside table and hugged him once more, diving into his chest like a fish that's been a bit too long out of the life-giving water.

Last Stand (3) - War

The door locked behind us as I followed Andrei through a narrow corridor to the bedroom. He sat carelessly on the bed, patting at his side so I'd follow -- so I did. He patted my shoulder. "You care too much about everyone, Sasha. Let go. Let go already."

"I swear I'm trying. It's just..."

"It looks worse than it is." He looked into my eyes. "Say, do you know how it feels? Have you ever tried that one?"

I shook my head. I knew where this was going -- and I welcomed it.

"Would it help? Do you want to?"

"Do it."

He grinned widely. His excitement was obvious, but it wasn't filled with cruelty this time. He pushed me to lay onto the bed, and gently put the bag around my head, not yet covering it. "Do you trust me, Sasha?"

I couldn't help smiling. "With my own life."

He laughed at my words while holding my hands with a vice-like grip, before closing the bag, leaving very little air on it.

I immediately felt the low oxygen, the plastic clinging to my skin as I breathed in. I could see a hint of his gleamy eyes behind the light plastic, so I focused on that. This was nothing else than another test, and even though I had seen what the body does when in dire need of air, I was still willing to try to maintain control as long as possible.

Yet Andrei always knows how to get you by surprise. He pulled me up into his arms, my hands still trapped in his, and started talking softly into my covered ear. "How does it feel, Sasha?"

"It's... obvious there's little oxygen." I fought hard against the urge to tear it off.

"Let go. You can't win this." And he twisted my hands.

The unexpected pain made me snap, took all my self control away, and I started thrashing around. Except he held me tight, so I couldn't really move. My body wanted to fight, my every cell wanted to fight. Air. You don't know how hard can you miss it 'till you lack it. Yet there was nothing I could do, but to panic. And so I panicked hard, my brain ignoring the part of me that knew well that nothing bad would actually happen.

...

I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, softly caressing my cheek. "Wake up, Sasha. I'm here. It's okay. I'm here."

I closed them again and hugged him, hard. I had passed out, I realized. I finally looked at him. "It's worse than it looks."

He laughed. "Yeah, I know. Say, do you want to try again?"

I looked at him, understanding. Realizing where this was going. "How. How can you do it."

He leaned even closer to me. "Do you want me to explain?"

In a moment of madness, I nodded.

He got up and went to search for some handcuffs, while I sat on the bed, uneasy, my heart beating hard. Could I? Shit. I knew I had to. He finally found them, managed to put them on with his hands on his back, and almost dived into the bed, grinning like a madman. "Well, you know what to do."

I stared at him. I couldn't. "You haven't explained anything, you know."

His smirk was cold and calculated. "Okay, okay. Say, how does it feel? To have everything in your hands? Feel it, Sasha. How does it feel to have me completely at your mercy?"

SHIT. I couldn't help sighing. "I... I can't do this." I crawled closer to him, almost hovering over him. "But I... I need to know. Say, what's the worst you could do? To me?"

"You know me. Do I really need to tell you?"

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, I want to hear it."

He seemed to think of it, still grinning, more of a mask than the real thing. "Well... that depends on what you've done."

"Your worst."

His grin vanished for a moment, only the cold, frozen sea remained behind. "Well... If you were to betray me... I won't lie to you -- I'll make you regret it. I won't have mercy on you just for being you. I... haven't really thought what would take to break you, but... I'll find it, rest assured of it." He finally let a hint of a smile show up in his eyes. "But I'm sure you're not the kind of idiot who gets there, Sasha."

No, of course not. And of course this wasn't news. But that didn't make it hurt any less. I knew--I knew well he cared. Yet he was a heartless madman -- who wouldn't think twice about hurting me. I sighed, hard. "You know, I can't do even this. When I know there's no risk involved. How? How do you do it?"

He sighed. "Look at me, Sasha. Didn't you say you'd do anything I asked? Well, then let go of your nonsense and put that damned bag over my head already."

I looked into his eyes. Have you ever seen the Void in the sea? ... I knew I had to. So I did. I sat on his belly so he couldn't move, and I gently put the bag over his head, tying the rim just airtight.

He still had that grin of his. "Now, Sasha. Feel it. How does it feel, huh? ... Let go. Don't take it out before I faint, or I'll ask you to do it again. Deal?"

I nodded, uneasy. It didn't feel as he thought it did. I knew well it was a test. I knew well what he was doing, and it only made it all the more distressing.

He ignored my expression, of course. "Well, that is, unless you want to do it again. Then go ahead, take it off before."

Goddamned bastard.

"You know what? Do it, Sasha. Do it. Make that decision for yourself."

... "So what if I indeed do it. Huh?"

He grinned harder, trying hard to keep control of his body, which had already started screaming for air. "Wait. No. You can do it again if you want, but don't stop. Feel it. Let go of the nonsense and feel it." He closed his eyes as his breath rate skyrocketed.

I reached for his heart -- much easier to find the pulse than in the neck, honestly. It was racing too. Shit. What if you have a heart attack, you fool. You aren't a teen anymore, you know.

But I waited, 'till it was quite obvious that he was unconscious -- his body still fighting, but his mind had given up. I quickly tore the bag off of his head. His breath soon was back to normal, his heart beating fast but not as if it wanted to jump out of his chest. I couldn't find the words, so I just petted his cheek, softly, caring.

He finally opened his eyes -- a couple seconds of a disoriented stare, followed by an extra wide grin, a playful gleam in his eyes that made me want to drown in them.

I hugged him, hard. He took the chance to whisper in my ear. "Again."

Last Stand (2) - Road to hell

It was early evening when we arrived at the safe house. A small apartment in a decrepit residential building, it looked completely ordinary from the outside. But upon opening the door, white-tiled walls and floor, and a harsh light, greeted you -- the standard furnishings of Andrei's safe rooms. The living room had been repurposed into an interrogation room, walls fully soundproofed. The only other door from the room seemed locked.
The target --the teen girl-- was sitting in a corner, black lines of teary mascara painting her cheeks. She looked at me. "Please, I haven't--"

Andrei cut her off. "Shut up." He grabbed a folding chair and put it in the middle of the room. "Sit here. NOW."

If I hadn't been on his side, I'd have been sincerely scared.

The girl was shaking as she got up and dragged herself to the chair. "Please..." Her voice trailed off, broken, shattered in the knowledge that her pleads were in vain.

Andrei quickly tied her to the chair -- she didn't even try to put up a struggle. She knew too well, fighting was, in the best case, a useless thing to do.

I took a second chair and sat in front of her. She most definitely wasn't eighteen. Oh, well. "Look... Do you know him?"

She nodded, a hint of hope showing up in her eyes.

I couldn't help smiling. "Then you know what's going to happen, don't you?"

"Please... I haven't done anything, I swear..."

"Honey, I don't get to decide what happens."

She swallowed, a nervous tear painting yet another black trail in her cheek, her voice slightly shaky. "One day you'll make a mistake and he'll go after you too."

"But honey, what do you think you know about me, huh?"

She pushed further, hopeful that it would lead her somewhere safe. Safer, anyway. "You think you're safe. You think you're different. You think it won't happen to you."

I laughed out loud. "Nope. I know well what you're talking about. I know him really well. I know well what he does. Like, firsthand. You see... He took everything I had. The only person I really cared about. She was my everything." ... Well. To a point, I guess.

She seemed shocked. "What happened?"

I forced a smile, trying to hide the dull ache. It still hurt like hell. "I killed her. You see, it was the price for being here. With Andrei. I like this place, this job. So, before you ask, yeah, it was worth it." ... Was it? ... Shit.

She looked down, maybe understanding. "Please, I did nothing..."

I was expecting Andrei to tell her to shut up, but he walked to her, grabbing her chin so she had to look at him. "You're a lying bitch."

She closed her eyes, terrified. "Please..."

"Open your eyes, damn it!" He grinned when they again made eye contact. "Why not tell him the truth, huh? Why not tell him why you're here?" He stepped away.

She started mumbling again. "Please... you have to understand..."

Again I sat in front of her. "I'll try, but you have to tell me your story."

"He set me up. I swear, he did--"

I smiled at her. "It's called a test. He does that, every single time. And I'm guessing you failed."

"Look, he... sent me to deliver a message. To a guy. But he wasn't there, there was another guy instead, who told me he worked for him. Showed me an ID card and everything. And I... was stupid enough to fall for it."

Andrei stepped in again. "You're skipping the part where you knew he was with the wolves. And the part where, instead of delivering the message, you started telling him everything you know, in hopes--"

"I swear--"

"Don't you interrupt me. I'm sick of your lies. That guy does work for me, of course he told me everything you did. What the hell were you expecting, anyway. A way out? Help from the wolves? You want to see how they help you? Don't worry, I'll send you there so you can check for yourself." He looked at me. "Sasha. Carve her face." He threw a folding knife at me.

I didn't -- couldn't say anything. I grabbed the knife and sliced an X on her cheek.

She cried in silence the whole time -- which considering how much it hurts, said a lot about her.

Andrei had that grin of his when I finished. "You're a damned snitch." He circled her, threateningly placing his hands on her shoulders. "Sasha, what do you think would be the fair thing to do, huh?"

I sighed. "Well... fair, fair... if we do this legally, I think we can charge her with treason. I honestly don't know how many years that is, but, I'd guess a good handful."

Andrei laughed at the silly idea. "That's a really good one, yeah. But I didn't mean that, you know, I don't really believe in the system, she'd be out way too soon. Plus... prison is like vacation. It can be annoying, sure, but it's not what I'd call a fair punishment."

She started sobbing and mumbling nonsensically.

Andrei ignored it and went on. "Say, girl, do you know what they used to do with the likes of you? Huh? What the mob still does?" He shifted his hands, immobilizing her, glancing at me. "Sasha, do you know what I'm talking about?"

I nodded as I leaned closer to her, putting up a smiley mask. "They make sure they shut up. Now, you can waste everybody's time trying to resist, of you can cooperate and I'll make it quick." I took the knife to her lips. "Open up. Don't make it harder than it has to be."

I still had to 'help', kinda prying her jaws open with the knife. I let the edge rest against the base of her tongue and looked at Andrei, expecting him to stop it. He'd say not to do anything that couldn't be patched up, after all.

"Do it."

Her cries echoed around as the knife hacked off her tongue. Andrei was fast to shove her forward before she chocked on her own blood. Still, she coughed, hard, red. I quickly found a rag and shoved it into her mouth, forcing it closed. The pressure would help in stopping the blood. She kept wailing the whole time, the shrieking sound muffled by the improvised gag.

It took a good five minutes 'till it kinda stopped -- stopped gushing furiously and started flowing lazily, anyway. I grabbed her bloody chin and made her look into my eyes smiling. "Sorry, gal. But you know how this works. I can't exactly say no, you know."

Andrei grinned at me. "Cut that crap, Sasha, you're here out of your own will." Then he circled her so she could look into his eyes, into the Void. He crouched before her, gently brushing her chin, her bloody throat, with his fingertips. "Now, girl, that's what everyone would do to a snitch. But, we're still missing the part where you betrayed me."

SHIT.

He kept talking. "Or you thought I wouldn't mind? Huh?" He stepped back and handed me a plastic bag. "Sasha. Show her what we do."

I couldn't help sighing, maybe a bit too hard, too obviously, as I took the bag. I looked at her -- the poor thing. She'd had more than enough. But it wasn't my job to decide what happened. I placed the bag over her head and closed it around her neck, just tight enough to make it airtight.

Andrei had been staring at me the whole time. He hugged me from the back, forcing me to take a step back, his voice a low hum that she couldn't hear. "Hey, Sasha. What's wrong, huh? You still worry about her, don't you?"

I put the mask on yet again. "I'm doing everything you ask, without any kind of hesitation."

"Yes, and you're missing the point. You have everything, Sasha. You have her life, her soul, in your hands. Feel it! Enjoy that feeling, boy!"

Shit. I couldn't find the words anymore. Yes, power was a drug, a cheap high. But I knew too well what I was doing to be able to look past it.

"Why do you care so much, huh?" He released me and went to undo the twist and take the bag off her head. She was already unconscious. He ignored it and went to unlock the door to the rest of the flat, signing at me to follow him.

Last Stand (1) - Resolution

"I'm proud of you, Sasha."

We were relaxing a bit after the busy morning, lying in the couch in the safe room beside Andrei's office. Lately, I seemed to always find myself diving into his chest, safe in his arms. That's probably the reason he noticed the soft chill that ran down my spine.

"You're still not used to it, are you?"

"It's gonna take a while. After so many years, it feels weird." ... It felt weird being called a different thing. You see, the whole 'Sandy' thing started when the guys didn't realize in English it's usually a girl's name. It had stuck long before they realized it, and then they found it so funny that it became almost an inside joke. I've never really cared either way -- in fact, it felt nice to finally forget the old days of instructors from hell calling me by my actual name.

He smiled at me. "Do you like it?"

I smiled back. "Yeah. ... You know, you were right, it was about time to move on."

He started softly rubbing my arm for an answer. "You know, I never thought I'd end up like this. Caring for someone, I mean."

"Maybe nobody gave you the chance."

He laughed softly at the suggestion. "Maybe. But maybe that's because I don't deserve it. ... You're different, Sasha. You did."

"Everybody deserves a chance."

"Not everybody thinks like you, you know. I, for one, don't think I deserve you."

We sat in silence for a while. I was too focused on feeling his warmth, on drowning in the sea -- a sea of madness. Maybe he was right. I couldn't have cared less. He could have been the devil himself, and nothing would have changed.

After a while, he broke the silence. "What do you want. I mean, I had something for you, but after this morning..."

Have I said we had had a busy morning?

I looked into his eyes, and realized the answer. "I want more."

He grinned at my words. "That's my boy." He paused for a moment. "Sorry. I know you hate that one. But, it's not easy for me to not call you that, Sasha. You're still so young."

I couldn't help smirking. "I don't really care what you call me, Andrei."

He patted my arm again, understanding. "So... yeah, I had a file for you. A sort of a test, if you wish."

"Show me."

He reached for the tablet that was conveniently placed on the side table and quickly found the file. "Here."

I eyed it. A girl -- the file said she was eighteen but I would have said less. "Goal?"

"The goal is not exactly to send a message, but... well, to give her a message."

Oh-kay. Well, shit.

He looked at me. "You can say no, and I'll give you some other file, you know."

"No, no, it's fine. I have to do this. For myself."

He grinned at my answer. "Good."

"Anyway, any red lines?"

"Actually, yes. I don't really care what you do, but make sure the doctors can fix it. ... Well, you'll be following orders, so I may step over the line a bit. But, other than that... make sure they can patch her back up."

Shit. "Understood." I totally saw where this was going. ... He had said it was a test, after all.

Dreams (Epilogue) - Sasha

I hopped into the shower as soon as we got home. The cool water felt good against my skin. I let it wash the blood on its own, I was in no hurry. I closed my eyes and let it soak me to the bone. It had been a weird day. I felt dead inside, but also full of life. The evening test had been... different. I had been different. I still had my doubts, but I had stepped over them -- probably for the first time. Probably for the first time it hadn't been a show-off or a trance.

It kinda hurt to realize that. To realize that Andrei was right, that he'd always been. That it was all my choice. Of course, that was the only reason why he had given me a choice, don't think I'm such an idiot to not see that.

I was still mind-tripping when he opened the door to the bathroom. "You're going to get a cold, Sandy. You're already squeaky clean, boy. Say, why don't you come already?"

He handed me a bathrobe as I stepped out of the shower, and helped me put it on, hugging me from the back in the process. I just stood there, feeling. Listening to his soft breath, feeling its warmth against my neck, and drowning in his arms. I lost track of time. It felt like forever, and yet, such forever didn't feel nearly long enough.

He finally let go and headed back to the big room, signing at me to follow him.

He lay down on the huge bed with a tired sigh -- it had been a long day, indeed. He patted the other side of the bed. "Come on. Come here."

I couldn't help smiling. "You know that's cheating," I said as I lay down on the bed too, my eyes glued to his.

"Is it?" He smiled too, and took my hand. "I wanted to tell you I'm really proud of what you did today, Sandy. Don't you think I didn't notice."

I sighed, still smiling, now more sadly. "Well, I... think you're right. I don't want to leave."

He smirked, playfully. "Don't you lie to yourself. It's not that. You like it. Don't you?"

I closed my eyes for a moment. Of course he was right -- he always is. But admitting it wasn't that easy. I opened my eyes again, only to find his. And I knew I had to. "...Yeah."

He was beaming. Almost literally. "That's my boy."

I smiled back at him.

"Sandy, I've been thinking... you have gone through a lot -- we have gone through a lot. Yet you still cling to the past. I think it's about time you let go and move on."

"What... what exactly do you mean." The guys? ... But... I had proven a handful of times that I was over them... right?

"I mean that stupid nickname. I get it, you too find it funny, but... you know, it's all about past memories. It's time you let go of it all. Say, would you mind if I called you Sasha?"

My brain went from 'what', to 'oh, no', to bursting into laughter. "No, I won't. You see, for a moment I thought you were gonna say Alex, or something. I hate that one, reminds me of... you know, the special program. But as long as it's not that, I don't really care."

He hugged me. "I just wanted to be sure. Sasha."

Dreams (5) - The test

Andrei stopped a moment before opening the door to the safe room. "Sandy, this is a test. Your goal is to send a message. Keep in mind this is not official stuff, if you follow my meaning." Meaning, it was a job for the mob, which was another way to say there were no red lines. "Let go, boy. Let me see what you're made of."

I sighed. "Okay. But, may I ask, what has the target done?"

He put on that creepy grin of his. "Does it matter? Sandy, your job is to send a message -- it's not to ask questions nor to make decisions."

I swear he did it on purpose. I'm completely sure he had a good reason for it all -- no matter how twisted, he did have principles. But in the end, it didn't matter. I took a deep breath before replying. I wasn't going to fail him. "Gotcha. Open it already."

He patted my shoulder. "That's my boy."

I couldn't help smiling. "I'm not a boy anymore, don't you think?"

He tried hard to not burst into laughter. "Let's see."

I smiled at the joke as he unlocked the door and we got in.

The room was in semi-darkness, only lightened by a soft spotlight in the center. Trying to hide in a corner was a young man, maybe a few years older than me, curled in a ball, his sobs barely audible even in the dead silence of the fully sound-proofed room. An assortment of lockers and cabinets lined one of the walls.

I took a deep breath. This was it. I had to. No buts. No matter how heartbreaking it could get. I grabbed a sturdy wooden folding chair from a corner and opened it right under the spotlight. Then I turned to the man. "Sit here."

"I haven't done anything, I swear... please..."

I pointed at Andrei with my head. "Tell him, I'm just following orders here."

He looked at me, at Andrei, without really seeing anything.

"Grab him, Sandy. There's no need to be nice."

I walked to the man and crouched in front of him. "Hey. I know you're scared. But don't make this harder for yourself, man. It's gonna be hell anyway, but keep in mind it can always get worse."

He was already broken -- probably from the shock of having been caught. I grabbed his hands and got him on his feet, and then gently guided him to the chair, where he sat, still sobbing softly. "Please..."

Andrei handed me his ID card. "For the cabinets' locks. Search around. See if you can surprise me."

No, I couldn't. Not in a literal sense, anyway. But a 'good' decision could be a surprise, so I strived for that. I opened the first locker. Power tools. Shit. My heart skipped a beat, fully realizing what was about to happen, but I ignored it all and focused on the task at hand. My eyes stopped on a nail gun. Was that surprising enough? ... Well, it would have to do. I took it and closed the door.

Andrei was beaming when he saw it. "Not bad, Sandy. Now let me see what you can do with it. Do you need help?"

I pointed at the man. "I don't think he'll put up much of a fight."

"Adrenaline can give you some nasty surprises, boy," Andrei said as he sat on the guy's lap, grabbing his arms, immobilizing him.

I knelt by the man's side, trying to get a good angle. The answer to the unasked question was obvious. Use the nails as restraints. I placed the nail gun against his wrist.

"Wait, Sandy. You don't want him to get free. Use two nails at different angles. So he can't get out no matter how much he pulls."

I adjusted the angle for the first nail as the man started to mumble. "Oh, god, please... please... no no no no...."

Tchak.

The first nail sent him wailing, my ears ringing for a good while. Andrei wasn't happy about it either. "Damn, another scream like that and we'll be deaf before this is over. Make him shut up."

I glanced at him. Shit. Okay. Okay, I got this. I lightly pressed the nail gun against the man's throat -- right against the larynx. That would shut him up.

Andrei stopped me again. "Wait! ... Test it somewhere else, you don't want to discover that it can easily shot through bone, do you?" ... Meaning, it would severely damage the spine and that would be it.

And no, that wasn't the idea. Andrei held the man's mouth shut as I tested it on his arm -- straight into the bone. It held -- judging by the head's height, it had barely penetrated the bone. Okay. Green light. I then held his head straight as I drove a nail into his throat, before finishing the restraining part -- both wrists and ankles.

He still tried to scream, but the pain from the nail soon made him think twice about it. Plus, it being right through his vocal chords meant only guttural growls could come out of his throat anymore.

Andrei was beaming. "Now, I'm wondering what else can you do with that." He finally got up and went back to leaning on the wall.

I didn't say anything -- didn't know what to say at that. I just looked at the man. He was now silently crying -- maybe trying to make a sound, but it wouldn't come.

Andrei interrupted my train of thought. "Wait." He handed me a knife. "Cut off his clothes, I don't want you miscalculating a shot and hitting an artery." His eyes said more. Don't play nice.

I sighed as I took the knife. He was right, of course, But that didn't make it any easier. I quickly tore through the fabric. Don't play nice meant not caring if I got a tad too close to the skin, so the target got a couple shallow cuts in the process. Oh, well. It only made him cry harder, a weird sound sometimes emerging from his throat.

Again I took the nail gun. Yeah, the exposed skin made it much safer -- meaning only that I wouldn't hit any major blood vessel. I took a deep breath. Today was not a day to complain or even to think. To hell with everything. I'm sorry, man, but I gotta follow orders. Except for once, I didn't say it out loud. I shot a few nails into his thighs -- right into the bone. Better that than going too deep.

Yet Andrei wanted more. "His knees, Sandy."

Sigh. Okay. I drove a couple nails into each knee, right into the articulation. Shit. I knew well he wouldn't ever walk again. And I kinda had figured out that he was going to live through this at the end of the day -- which made it all the more heartbreaking. But I wouldn't fail Andrei.

I left the gun back in its place, thinking about what to do next. There were too many dangerous tools in that locker, and I knew I shouldn't take unnecessary risks, so I closed it, ready to search the others. And then Andrei handed me a nicely folded plastic bag.

I hesitated for a split second before taking it, more from the surprise than from anything else.

"You know what to do, Sandy."

Yes. Yes I knew. I circled around the man to look at him, forcing a smile on my lips. "Hey man. Look, I'd say I'm sorry, but... you know, I'd be lying." ... No, I wouldn't, but the truth didn't matter at all.

He redoubled his sobbing efforts -- it came out as a soft growl.

I unfolded the bag and put it over his head. He tried to resist, but the pain from the nail restraints soon made him stop. I twisted the rim around his neck -- just tight enough to leave it airtight. This one was all about timing. You don't want them to faint, just to feel like they will. It's a pretty safe thing to do -- but not a nice feeling at all.

I waited there 'till he started thrashing, the lack of air making him forget the pain from the naily restraints. I was going to take the bag out, but yet again Andrei stopped me. "Wait. Feel his pulse. Wait until it spikes."

Shit. "That's... essentially shock." I searched for the man's pulse as I looked at Andrei -- I was quite uneasy with this. Lack of oxygen is a dangerous thing, and I didn't think brain damage was in the script, anyway.

He grinned at me. "My point exactly. Don't worry, worst case he faints, you take it off, and that's it."

The target's heart was beating steadily faster and harder, to a point I started to worry he'd had a heart attack. I tore the bag off his head.

The man gasped for air, pain from the nailed throat obvious in his teary eyes. He tried to mumble something, but only managed to make an unintelligible growly whisper.

Andrei was beaming, his eyes glistening in the semi-darkness with pure madness and cruelty. "Again."

I took another breath as again I put the bag over the man's head. He soon started thrashing around, even harder than the first time. I looked at Andrei the whole time. He had that grin of his, that made me realize he didn't care about the target at all -- this was about me. We stared at each other for what felt like forever. The man's heart rate going wild in the meantime.

Andrei never said anything, but I just knew, I had to take the extra step. Let the target faint. And so I did. Looking at Andrei the whole time. Drowning in a sea of madness.

"Take it off." He finally said.

I had lost track of time -- the target may as well have been dead already. Still, I tore it off.

"Wake him. This isn't over."

I got in front of the man, leaning over him so my eyes were level to his. I softly pet his cheek. "Hey. Wake up."

He opened his eyes, confused for a second 'till his sight focused on me, and then he panicked, hard. He again tried to say something, but the only thing that could be heard was a pitiful groan. It was heartbreaking to see. But I couldn't let that get to me.

I looked at Andrei, asking in silence for more instructions.

He handed me a cauterizing pen and pointed at him. "Our man here is a filthy liar. I want him to never forget that I'm always listening."

The man growled, probably trying to deny it all. You idiot, can't you see it doesn't matter? Can't you see this isn't even about you?

I looked at Andrei, awaiting further instructions. I had a good clue on what was he after, but I'd rather have actual explicit confirmation.

He looked at me, amused. "Do I have to spell everything out? Brand him. Where -- up to you."

Oh, well. Such is life. I took the pen and plugged it in. The tip turned bright red in seconds. I held the man's head forward as I branded his back, shoulder to shoulder. 'LIAR'. He kept trying to scream the whole time, but only managed to make a soft growl. It was almost cute.

"And now, I want everybody to know who did this. You know how."

Yes, I knew how. The mark --this time a brand-- on his cheek to make it a public statement of sorts.

Dreams (4) - Let go

We got back into the car. I was uneasy -- perhaps from fully realizing everything that went on below the already ugly surface. The woman's reaction had left me cold -- I don't know if she was aware that the game is always rigged, but... even then, unless you really trust Andrei, you can only know he'll get the result he wants -- but not which result it is. And, can you ever trust him?

The car was warm from sitting in the sunlight, and so we both took off our jackets. I realized what a mess I was -- the jacket partly covered the blood-stained shirt, but once gone... shit. I looked around, distracted. If some cops were to see us... well, let's hope not.

Andrei shattered the silence. "Are you okay, Sandy?"

I sighed. "I'm fine." No, I wasn't. I was still thinking of the woman -- of her reaction. How she hadn't tried to fight, or anything, just accepted her fate. It was heartbreaking.

He patted his thigh. "No, you're not. Come here. Come sit with me."

"That's cheating."

"So what. Come here, I know you want to."

I did. The wheel dug into my ribs, but I ignored it, focusing on feeling his warmth. I leaned against the door and looked at him like an idiot. He was in the shadow, but the bright day somehow shone into his eyes -- it was like looking up at the sky, with the sun shining brightly, blinding you, yet you couldn't possibly tear your eyes away from it.

He let his hand rest on top of mine. "Tell me. Why do you care so much, Sandy."

I wanted to close my eyes, forget his and tell him he would never understand. But I didn't find the words, nor the courage to look away. "I don't know."

"Let go, Sandy. You're here because you want. But you have to let go of all that nonsense, realize that you like all this."

I sighed, finally closing my eyes. I felt dizzy. I leaned on him, kinda letting go -- at least of the part of me that screamed at me to run away. No, I couldn't. Yet I also couldn't give up. A man was dead for being an idiot -- but that wasn't the worse. That woman was probably living her dream -- except it was a nightmare. How many more? How about myself? I had been telling myself that this was a dream -- but aren't nightmares dreams too?

I was in a sort of a trance, not really realizing what I was doing -- I had taken out a knife and was softly pressing it against my wrist. I froze when his hand grabbed mine -- gently, caring. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.

"Don't do that." He rolled up his sleeve, offering his forearm. "Here. I'm here for you. Let me help."

I couldn't. I mean, I knew well it was nothing. Just a silent scream, a flash of light in the darkness of my mind. A glass of water in an endless desert -- it wouldn't make a difference. But I couldn't hurt him. I stared at his wrist, his other hand holding mine.

"You need to cut something, here I am." His voice was soft, friendly. Nothing eerie about it. Yet it paralyzed me.

No, I can't, I thought. "Why." I managed to say, a whisper barely audible in the noise of the city.

He smiled, warmth filling his eyes. "You know why. I want to help. I want you to realize what you're doing." He gently moved my hand 'till the edge was right on his forearm. "Don't worry about me, Sandy. We both know this is nothing."

I couldn't. But he wouldn't have it, so he firmly guided my hand -- the sharp blade slicing deep into his flesh, blood soon rushing to answer the call. He'd gone deep, slicing a couple major arteries, so he was bleeding quite a lot. I tried to grab it and try to slow down the blood rushing out. He stopped me. "Don't."

"It's bleeding badly, Andrei, we gotta--"

"Let go, Sandy. I'll be fine, trust me. Just look at it."

I stared at it. It was dizzying but also mesmerizing. Blood pouring out, painting everything in red. I couldn't help running my hand through it -- feeling its warmth, it's coppery smell.

He pushed me further. "How does it feel."

I managed to close my eyes for a second. "It's not the same. It's not enough." I said, softly clutching to his bloody hand, to my own insanity.

"You want me to help?" He took the knife and further rolled up my sleeve, making sure it was held in place, his other hand holding mine.

"Yes. Do it."

Of course he had to take the slow route. The knife dug into my flesh, slicing it open -- I had to clench my teeth, it hurt a lot but I wasn't going to make a sound. My eyes glued on my forearm the whole time, the sight of so much blood and the heat made me dizzy -- more than I already was.

The knife fell with a muted thud. I was frozen, I couldn't tear my eyes from his. I couldn't say anything.

So he did. "Better?"

"I don't know. I... it hurts. It's bleeding a lot. I..."

"You'll be fine, don't worry. Just feel it. Isn't that what you wanted? Pain? To get hurt?"

Shit, he was good with words. I nodded.

"Let go, Sandy. Feel it. Take in the pain and realize that it's not about that -- it's about the blood, isn't it?"

Yeah. Shit.

"You are what you are, boy. Let go of the nonsense." He softly brushed my cheek with his bloody hand. "Feel it."

Oh, did I feel it. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander as he kept petting me, softly, lovingly. Painting everything in red. The warm blood soon getting cool, leaving that wet feeling all over. Mi mind dizzy, not only 'cause the trance but 'cause my own blood loss. It wasn't that much, but enough to be noticeable.

"Feel it, Sandy. Look at yourself. Let go. Let go of everything. You like this. You could go away but you won't."

"I can't," I mumbled.

"You can -- you don't want to. Yet you keep holding to your nonsense. Let go. Give up your soul, it has no place in this hell, Sandy." There was no creepy grin, no sign of the Void in his eyes, only a friendly smile. He was sincerely trying to help.

I couldn't think anymore, my mind lost in the middle of a gleaming sea. "Are you the devil?"

He didn't try to hide a smirk. "Are you afraid of going to hell?" He paused, waiting for a reaction to his joke. "You know it's all nonsense, Sandy. We're already in hell. Let go."

I hugged him, trying to drown in his chest, his heartbeat a raging, distant storm. He was right. I had to let go. I had to give up. I had chosen this, and there was no denying that. I could go, I knew I could -- technically. As in, he'd let me. But I couldn't. I couldn't leave him. Even if he was the devil himself.

"Let go, Sandy. Look at me."

I shifted back to meet his eyes again. And I dived into them. "Take me," I whispered.

"Give up your soul. Give up on yourself. Let go."

"Take me."

"Say it. Your soul."

I took a deep breath, briefly closing my eyes just to meet his again an instant later -- and drown in them. "Take my soul. Take everything. Don't let me go."

He hugged me, taking my breath away. "I won't let you down. I'll never leave you, Sandy."

I had another mind trip, helped by the blood loss and the difficulty of breathing under his vice-like grip. I lay there, in his arms, motionless. It felt like death -- knowing that rebirth lies just a step ahead.

But he let go after a while, shifting me aside so I could drown again in the sea. "Now, time for work. What are you willing to do."

I was still trippy and dizzy, so I had to force the smile, but I had made up my mind. "Just ask."

"Say it, Sandy."

Now my grin was somewhat natural. "You know I'll do anything and everything you ask."

He smirked happily. "Well, I have a job for you, but I can't drive with you on my lap, you know."

I shifted around, hauling myself onto the copilot's seat. Letting go of his warmth. Knowing well that the road to hell was a rough one, but that he'd take my hand to lead me there.

Dreams (3) - The Bank

I was still in a sort of a trance as we got into the car. Nothing really made sense anymore. That's to say, I hadn't been expecting what had just happened.

Andrei pat my shoulder and sighed. "Okay, I guess not everybody is too fond of me. But, let me show you another example, okay?"

He drove to a nearby bank office and gently led me to the director's office. A well-dressed woman, around her late thirties, welcomed us warmly. "Hello, boss. I wasn't expecting you, is there any problem with--"

Andrei cut her off. "No, we're not here about business. My friend would like to have a conversation with you." For once, he ignored the fact that she'd called him boss, which was quite... surprising.

Okay, she was something else. A couple details threw her facade away, but overall, she was putting up quite a good act. She got up and offered me her hand. "Welcome, my friend. I'll gladly answer any question you may have."

I shook it firmly, in a friendly gesture, and then we both sat. She looked at me in a way that only someone used to deal formally with clients all day can. It was all a mask, but I have to admit, it transmitted some sort of confidence, of trust.

"So..." I started. "I'm curious. What brought you here? What's your story?"

She put on a polite smile, but behind that, I could see a lightbulb turning on over her head, finally understanding what this was about. "Oh, that. Well... I'm... guessing you know about the bridge?"

"Yeah, I know a lot of things."

Andrei interrupted us. "You can talk freely. He's a good friend of mine, no need to walk over thin ice around him."

She smiled again, slightly more relaxed. "Okay. So, life circumstances, I ended up in there. With a kid, and nothing else. And then one day he offered me a position in here, and I saw the opportunity and jumped in."

"What's the job about, if you don't mind me asking?"

"At this point, I don't mind you asking anything, my friend. I'm the office director. In that regard, I do exactly the same as any other office director. It's mostly an admin job, but I also deal with clients -- him being one of them."

I looked at Andrei. "How on earth did you manage to give her such a position?"

He smiled too. "I have my contacts. And she's a very competent woman who started as a secretary and has since got a handful of promotions." I had the feeling that he had had more to do with those promotions than he was letting on.

I looked back at her. "And that's it? I mean, we all know..."

Her eyes glanced at the door to check it was closed and then at Andrei, who nodded subtly. She focused back on me. "Well, the unofficial job is to keep an eye on the bulky accounts. There's usually not much to report, but... sometimes you see a substantial transference, and that's the sort of thing you make a call for."

I nodded, waiting for more. I knew Andrei well -- that couldn't be everything.

She looked at him again for his approval.

"My dear, he knows everything."

"Well... he's one of our best clients, and another part of my job is as his investor. Including the 'no questions asked' part." That made more sense.

"Okay. So... if you had the choice, would you leave?"

She smiled warmly. "I do have the choice. But, well, I'll be honest, I get a small commission from the investor business, so I won't find a better job anywhere else. And as for the 'risk' involved, well, you know who he is, he's guaranteed me legal protection in case something were to... see the light."

"So, what do you think of him."

She almost burst into laughter. "Oh, well, it's not a secret that he can be a handful. But, I don't have many horror stories, so I can't really complain."

Meaning, she knew well when to bite her tongue and accept her fate instead of getting all cocky. Well, I guess she was quite right.

I sighed. "Okay, so, one last question. It's nothing really personal, just a standard screening question -- one I happen to find it really interesting."

"Ask away."

"Say, you get into a safe room, to find Andrei strapped to a chair. He can't really do anything. Nobody knows any of you are there. What do you do."

Her smile vanished for a second before she forced it to be there again. "Look, I'll be honest. Nobody I know, nobody who knows him, will give you a positive answer to that. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

I smiled. "Well, I would."

"Then you're completely nuts." She managed to keep the smile.

Andrei stepped in again. "I'd like to hear a real answer."

She sighed, her confidence mask broken, leaving only resignation behind. "I... have never really thought about that kind of question. I'm not sure what I'd do. Probably run away, as far as fast as I could."

Andrei's eyes were beaming again. "I had hoped something else, my dear."

She closed hers, trying in vain to hide from the Void. "I know well lying isn't an option."

He drew out his revolver, spun the cylinder carelessly, and left it on the desk, launching it towards her. "Take it."

She sighed before taking it. She was trying hard to keep her head on her shoulders, but it wasn't exactly easy. What had she seen? Only they two knew.

And Andrei wasn't helping. "Look at me." He waited for her eyes to meet his. "What are you willing to do."

"What... what do you want."

"I want to know I can trust you. I want to see you're willing to do whatever I ask. Point it at your head and pull the trigger."

She closed her eyes again, in complete silence, her hand slightly shaky as it rose to her temple.

Click.

She was lowering the gun when Andrei stopped her. "Again."

"Oh, god..."

"Or you know what happens."

She took a deep breath, again in silence, this time a tear betraying her emotions, her hand now visibly shaking while going up, a long pause before finally pulling the trigger.

Click.

Andrei grinned. "Okay, that's enough."

She was still shaking when she left the gun on the desk.

Andrei took it and put it back into his inner pocket. "Open your eyes." He waited for her. "Good job. See you around." He turned towards me. "Let's go, Sandy."

Dreams (2) - Pawn Shop

Andrei drove me to a shabby pawn shop, the kind where all sort of useless trash fills the walls, in hopes somebody will think some of it is worth their money. A couple of the things made kinda clear that there was more to it than what it seemed -- which, knowing that the man worked for Andrei, didn't come as a surprise.

The man's eyes illuminated when he heard the door chime and saw a new face, but soon turned ice cold as he saw Andrei enter right behind me. Still, he tried to be polite and hide his uneasiness. "Hello, my friends. May I interest you in something? I have recently acquired--"

"Cut that crap." Andrei coldly interrupted him. "My friend wants to talk to you."

The man looked at me, surprised. "Oh, sorry, my bad." He forced a polite smile. "I'm used to people being here purely for business. So, what do you want?"

I sighed before dropping the bomb."Why work here."

He was trying hard to be polite. "Well, I like this place. It's like a dreamland. People sell the trash they don't want anymore, and others find treasures in it."

"You know what I mean," I said bluntly, pointing at Andrei with my head.

"I wouldn't be here if not for him, you know. It's... This all is like a dream come true." I could tell he was telling only part of the truth. As in, yeah, that was technically true, but he was omitting the other side of the coin.

"So, what do you think of him."

Again he forced a smile, trying hard to hide his nervousness. "Well... I see you bear the mark, so, I can't really tell you anything new under the sun, can I? ... We all know how he is."

I glanced at Andrei -- his guy wouldn't actually talk with him there. He didn't need a word. "I'll leave you two talk in private. Sandy, I'll be in the car waiting for you." And so he left.

I looked again at the man. "Be honest. I'd like to know why."

He glanced at the door and relaxed a bit. "Well, I haven't told you a single lie..."

"Yet you haven't told me the whole truth, am I right?"

He sighed. "Yeah. This is a nice place, and I'm really happy that I got to be here, but... he's a headache to deal with. I wouldn't be here if not for him, but every time he comes through that door, I wonder if all this is worth the price I pay for it."

"Would you leave, if you had the chance?"

"My contract says nothing about ending it, so I guess technically I can. But you know, I'm too old to find something else. This pays well, I live a comfortable life... And I somehow don't think he'd be thrilled if I told him I'm leaving, you know."

Yeah. Exactly what I had expected. A polite smile as thanks for a comfy life, that under the nice surface was hell.

I sighed. "Okay, okay. Last question. This... doesn't really have anything to do with you, it's just a standard screening question we do when doing a job evaluation, but I think it's a really interesting question."

He seemed slightly worried at my wording. "Fire away."

"Okay. So, I get you to a motel room, nobody knows you're there. Okay? And inside, you find Andrei, strapped to a chair, not able to really do anything. Also, nobody knows he's there. What do you do?"

He put up a polite smile, but the color seemed to drain from his face. "I... can't really answer that, you know."

"Why not," I asked, trying to be friendly. The question was indeed pretty standard in screenings. I simply found it incredibly interesting.

He sighed. "Fine. I'd call the cops, let them take care of him." He was trying to imply that the cops would go after him, but it was nonsense, and he knew it. Not only Andrei was the Head of Detentions, Intelligence, but also unofficially half of the cops worked for him, and most of the other half knew better than to mess with him.

"You know I'm good at telling when someone's lying, right?" I smiled.

He went white. "I--"

Someone decided it was a good moment to interrupt our conversation. He was creepily grinning, as usual, when he casually opened the door and leaned against the counter. "Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing what you said. You know, I want to know what your answer actually is."

The man froze for a couple seconds. I stared at him -- something was not right, I saw it in his eyes. Out of the blue, he pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Andrei. "You want to know what I'd do? I'd blow up your fucking head, that's what I'd do."

Andrei looked at him, amused. Ready. Damn, he was good at this. He had that grin of his, but multiplied by a lot. "Then pull the trigger."

I tensed up. I knew he had it well under control, but still, it was a risky thing to do. I readied myself to act -- just in case something went wrong.

Andrei ducked a split second before the loud bang left my ears ringing. Then he grabbed the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the gun, and brutally slammed him into the counter. "You seriously thought that could work, you idiot?" If he'd been grinning creepily before, now he was beaming, his eyes gleaming with a special shade of void -- there's a reason the whole 'he's the devil' thing is a thing.

The poor man started sobbing. "Fuck, no, please... I'm sorry..."

"That doesn't change the fact that you just tried to kill me. And here I thought I could trust you."

"I'm sorry, boss, please..."

"First, I have a name. Say it."

The man closed his eyes, as if that would somehow help him. "A-Andrei, please... don't do this, I'm--"

Andrei finally leaned back, letting the man get up and sit on his stool, before drawing out his revolver. "And second," he said as he let the cylinder in sight, showing a single bullet, "you're supposed to do whatever the hell I ask. So we're going to play Russian Roulette." He let it spin before swiftly pushing it closed. "But we'll do it with a small twist. You'll be the one who gets to have the gun." He shoved it into the man's hand. "Now, point it at your temple and pull the trigger."


The man was still sobbing profusely. He looked at the gun as if it was an alien. "No, please... I... I can't..."

Andrei grabbed the man's handgun from the floor and pointed it at him. "Well, it's your call. One in six, or certain death."

"Fuck, no, no, don't..." He stared at Andrei for about two seconds before closing his eyes, taking the revolver to his temple, and pulling the trigger.

Click.

He almost burst out laughing when he heard that innocent sound.

Yet Andrei wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "Now, point it at me. And pull the trigger."

The man's happiness vanished, blood draining from his face. He was in this mess 'cause he had made the mistake of... doing exactly what Andrei was asking him to do again. "Fuck... no... boss..."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I have a name, huh?" He looked at me. "Sandy. Do it."

I took a deep breath as I gently took the revolver from the man's hand. I knew well what the chances were -- the game always rigged, the position of the bullet well known beforehand -- but still, it made me uneasy. If something were to go wrong... No. It couldn't. I knew him well. I raised my hand and pulled the trigger.

Click.

We all sighed in relief.

"Give him the gun, Sandy. The game is not over." Andrei's eyes locked on the man. "Try again."

The man was already broken. He was still sobbing, but he didn't have the strength to do it properly anymore. He mumbled nonsense for an answer. "Fuck, no, please..."

Andrei didn't say another word, just took the gun, pressed it against the man's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

The man couldn't bring himself to be happy about it anymore. He had probably realized that the game was rigged, that the only way to win was hoping... hoping Andrei didn't want him dead.

Have I ever told you that hope is a bitch?

Andrei left the gun on the counter again. "My turn. Don't make me ask twice."

Dead silence. The man was broken, he couldn't possibly do anything else than stare without seeing.

Andrei sighed, both annoyed and resigned. "Sandy? Will you please...?"

Shit. I hated this, even knowing that he knew well what he was doing. I'd have had no problem in risking my own life... but risking his was different. Still, there was no way around it. Again I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Phew. I left it on the counter. I knew well it wasn't over.

Andrei moved it further towards the man. "Your turn." He pointed the man's handgun at him.

The man had given up. He didn't say a word, he just took it to his temple.

Click.

Andrei's grin was wider than before, if that was somehow possible. "Now, we know where it is, don't we? Now, I'm not going to play any more games on you. Take it to your head and pull the trigger."

I thought the man was already broken. But I guess you can always stomp on the shards 'till they become dust. He started mumbling again. "No, please... don't ask me this... I... I can't possibly..."

"And here I thought you'd do anything I asked."

The man couldn't really hear him anymore, he simply kept mumbling, more and more unintelligibly by the moment.

"You see, if you're not willing to do what I ask... Then what's the point, huh?" Andrei paused, waiting for an answer that wouldn't come. He sighed, finally giving up, and handing me a knife. "Sandy, kill him."

I took it. I knew well what would happen if I didn't. He'd do it -- no, actually, he'd make it worse. So I circled around the counter, and slashed the man's throat open. I closed my eyes as his warm blood soaked me. I couldn't help but to smile at the mess -- blood has something mesmerizing.

Dreams (1) - Why do you care so much

Still mostly asleep, I opened my eyes in the semi-darkness of the room, only to meet his. Even in the dim light that got past the blinds, they were somehow gleaming warmly.

I turned around, images of that night flashing in my mind. I looked at my hand -- the recent wounds were a somewhat painful reminder that it hadn't been a dream. I closed my eyes only to find his -- but turned into a glistening void, full of cruelty. Instinctively, almost sobbing, I reached for my neck, only to realize that memory also hadn't been my imagination -- I had another couple cuts there, right across my throat. I couldn't bottle up the tears anymore.

I was stuck in those thoughts when I noticed a hand over my arm, gentle, caring. Shit. "I'm here, Sandy. I'm here for you."

You couldn't understand even in a million years, I thought. What had happened the night before had been all my fault -- to a point. I had asked for it, yes. But he had delivered much more than I had bargained for. Maybe trying to get me to stop and realize what a stupid idea it was. But it didn't make it hurt any less. You see, behind his "Trust me, Sandy" hid his raw brutality.

Yet every single time, I had told him to do it.

He dragged me closer and hugged me. "I'm sorry, boy. I'm sorry I don't know better."

"It's not even about that," I said coldly. "You wouldn't understand."

I almost heard his soft, sad smile. "I know why you did what you did. Sometimes pain feels better than regret, doesn't it?"

Shit.

"Turn around, let me see you."

My broken heart couldn't possibly say no. I turned around and again saw his eyes, a hint of sadness, of regret, clouding their usual shimmer.

"I'm sorry, Sandy."

I shifted around 'till my head was resting on his chest, his heart beating into my ear, steady, soft, warm. My world melted. Yet it did not make me forget what had happened a couple days before in the club. That poor girl. "You can't understand."

He started petting my head, my arm, lovingly. "You're still thinking of the other day, aren't you? Sandy, tell me, why on earth do you care so much?"

I sighed. "You can't understand, can you? ... Andrei, dammit, they're people."

"Yeah. People are stupid and greedy enough to get in there. That girl could have said no."

"And you could have given her a chance without making her go through hell first."

The very thought of his blunt answer made him grin. "First, I've told you, I'm not a charity. And, let me be honest here, I think you did her a favor -- she'll probably not come back."

"That's not my point. You could--"

"Yes, I could, and no, I won't. There's a reason they work there. They all could go and get some other job, but they don't. What they choose is not my fault, at all."

I sighed. "What about the people in the bridge."

"That's another topic, entirely. Sandy, let me tell you something about that girl. Give her a year, and I bet she'll be back for more. They usually do."

"That doesn't mean it's fair."

"Well, news flash, life is not fair, it will never be."

I sighed. "Why don't you care at all?"

He laughed at me. "Why do you care so much? Look, I get your point, I do. But you're assuming people are nice."

"Not everybody is like... this, you know."

He laughed at the joke. "You'd be surprised. Okay, let me tell you a story, yes? This country used to be communist, as you well know. Ask around, and those willing to tell the truth, will tell you that everybody was a firm believer in the system. Everybody believed in equality, and that stuff. Then the regime fell. Ask around. How many of those communists are now greedy capitalists who don't give a shit about others. That's people for you."

"Your point being?"

"That girl. I'll bet whatever the hell you want. Give her... two years. If she isn't back, ask her if she thinks it's not fair. You know what she'll say? ... That same as she got out, others can. Yeah, sure, it was hard, but worth it, and bla bla bla. Ask her if she'd do anything to change it, and I bet literally anything you want, then she won't care. Again, that's people for you. I've seen it again and again. They all want a better word while they have nothing to lose. But give them a comfy life as mid-class, and soon all they care for is the numbers on their bank account."

I sighed. "Well. Okay. But. The people in the bridge--"

"Those are actual rats. And I can prove that to you. They just don't want to work, period. They're there 'cause they have shelter, some safety, enough food to not go hungry. But give them a job, any job, and they'll say no."

"Working for you is not--"

"It's not working for me. I HAVE offered them jobs, yes. But it's not even that. Not all the jobs I offer mean working here. Most are simply to keep an eye out for news, and other than that, lead an honest life. We can go talk to some of the guys I recruited from the bridge, if you'd like. But anyway. It's not about working for me. They could find any other honest job."

"It's never that easy, they're there for a reason. Some of them have lost everything due to circumstances--"

"And those won't stay there for long, they'll always find a job in a matter of months. Or eagerly accept my offer. But the others -- they're rats who'd rather sit there than live an honest life. And so, that's what they do."

I sighed. I guess he was technically true, but knowing that a couple hundred of people lived under a bridge, and that he was 'partly' responsible for it all, knowing he gave them protection and enough money to go by, the price for his 'help' being having a reliable source of targets for 'training'... knowing what happened to these people, and then hearing him talk like that, was heartbreaking to say the least.

"What people chose to do with their lives is not my fault. Anyway, get dressed, we're paying a visit to a couple of my guys."

Cage (5) - Click

The dead silence had been interrupted only by the occasional held breath of the whole audience at the same time, or the random people deciding they'd seen enough and leaving. Broken also by her screams, that every few minutes pierced the silence, tearing it to shreds -- a reflection of her soul, of mine too.

She was in quite bad shape. Nothing that actually required a stay at the hospital --no broken bones, no real blood loss--, but a visit wouldn't have been a bad idea. But her mind --the sharp mind of a fighter, used to deal with adrenaline and pain--, her mind was shattered to pieces. She'd had the strength of never asking me to stop, but I knew well that the only reason for it was she knew well I wouldn't -- I couldn't.

My earpiece beeped yet again. "Finish it, Sandy."

I got her down -- back on her feet. I had no clue on how to remove fishing hooks without causing major damage, so I let them there, dangling from her skin. She was obviously pale and lightheaded, so I made her sit on the floor. I wasn't going to risk her fainting and pulling from the hooks -- or falling on top of them.

"Okay, time to end this." I pulled out the revolver.

"Oh, god, no, please..."

"Say, do you believe in fate? Should I leave it all to chance?" I spun the cylinder carelessly. I knew I could trust Andrei on this. "This is your only way out. So, say, wanna play Russian roulette?"

She froze, tears lazily trailing down her cheeks in complete silence. Her eyes begging for a chance.

I smiled at her. "Okay, I'll go first." Without a second thought, I placed the barrel against my temple, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

"See? Not that hard, is it?" I handed her the revolver. "Now it's your turn."

She grabbed onto it for her dear life and pointed it at me, her hands shaking badly. "You've made a mistake."

"One in five. Give it a try. Chances are it's not there, anyway. And then I get two shots at you. So, go ahead."

She froze, her eyes staring but not really seeing. Realizing cheating wasn't such a good idea. She dragged her hand --the revolver-- to her temple, and again stared at me, pleading for a chance.

I smiled at her. "This is your best chance to get out, my dear."

Click.

She lowered the gun with a sigh of relief. Poor thing.

I grabbed it again without hesitation. "Well, one in four... let's hope for the best, huh?"

Click.

I handed it to her yet again. She didn't reach for it as angrily. She just took it carelessly, and again pointed it at me. Her eyes full of determination this time. Poor fool.

I smiled at her again. "I won't stop you, but then the last two are for you, so you better pray it's there."

She seemed to realize something. "You know where it is."

"Do I?" I couldn't hide a smirk.

She stared at me, thinking. Chances. Did I know what I was doing? Had I planned this? I saw her eyes squint a split second before she pulled the trigger.

Click.

I sighed in relief too. Even when you know your chances... there's always the chance of something going wrong, isn't it?

I grabbed it before she could try again, kneeling just before her. "Sorry, gal. I told you."

She started sobbing unintelligibly as I placed the barrel against her temple. "Oh, god, please..."

Click.

I grabbed her chin and made her look into my eyes. I couldn't help smiling. "See you in hell."

...

Click.

She looked at me in pure confusion, her eyes a window to her soul. Wasn't she supposed to be dead? ... Was she dead somehow? "...What..."

I grinned at her. "You don't get to die and forget what you've just gone through -- no, you'll have to live with it." I got up and called the guys to open the cage.

Cage (4) - Trust

I went to the waiting room. The girl was relaxing, alone, taking long gulps from a bottle of vodka that was already half-empty.

"... You sure that's a good idea?" I greeted her, pointing at the bottle.

"Look, to do what I'm about to do, one must be either crazy or drunk. ... So I thought, why not both."

I sat beside her. "I guess you're right. Anyway. Look, I... I know how this ends."

"There are rules."

"I wouldn't bet anything on them."

"He's an honest man, you know."

I couldn't hide a sad smile. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Look, don't do this. It's not worth it."

"I've been in hell, for years. How bad can half an hour be?"

"What's the worse you've been through."

She pointed at the barcode on her wrist. "Can't get worse than this."

"You're underestimating him," I said, Andrei's words resonating in my mind. Show her what hell is, make her realize that we're worse, make sure she can't ever forget. "There's a reason so many people think he's the Devil."

"I won't change my mind. It's a lot of money, and he's right, this is my best chance at a new life."

"Then do a few normal fights. In a couple weeks you could have just as much. This is something else."

She locked her eyes on mine. "He's sent you to fight me, hasn't he?"

"Yeah."

She smirked. "Well, the good news is you're not him."

"And now you're underestimating me." I sighed loudly. "I'll do anything he asks."

"You sure you can?"

Yes, you fool. "Don't do it. It's not worth it."

She took another long gulp from the bottle and got up. "Let's get this over with."

She took the lead to talk to the commentator about the match. I was going to follow her when I almost crashed into Andrei, who, as usual, had appeared out of nowhere. "So?"

I froze in place. Shit. I had to remind myself to take a breath.

He casually put his hand on my shoulder, a friendly pat to anyone who didn't know him -- it sent a chill down my spine. "I told you you could change your mind. What are you going to do?"

"Will you at least tell me what to do?"

"Just ask."

I sighed. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

"Does it include a 'Hurry up Sandy, people are waiting for you to get into the cage'?"

"I guess." I couldn't help smiling at his bad joke.

- - -

I hurried to the cage -- the girl was already waiting, doing a light warming up. I was climbing the steps when my comms chip beeped. "Check your inner pocket. This is not a fight. Take control as soon as the bell rings."

I discreetly checked it, only to find Andrei's revolver. He must have put it there, without me noticing, during the last bit of our conversation. As always. Shit.

The commentator did the presentations much less enthusiastically than before. The girl kept looking at me, ready to put up a fight -- a good show. She surely knew this wasn't an ordinary fight -- but she couldn't possibly imagine what was coming up for her.

Everybody was cheering at us in a deafening cacophony when a loud electronic bell rang, well above their voices. I looked at her, the voices surrounding us slowly but steadily decreasing in volume. She got ready for the fight. If it hadn't been clear from her previous match, now it was -- she had quite some experience in this.

My comms chip beeped again. "Sandy, don't take any risks. That's an order."

"Are you going to stand there like a dummy?" She yelled right before lunging at me, trying to score a hit. Okay, she was good, but not nearly fast enough.

I grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm around her, hugging her from her back a split second after I pulled the gun out of its hiding place. Before she could react, I let the barrel rest against her temple. "Told you not to do this, my dear. Say, did you really think this was going to be a fair fight?"

If the voices had been a loud murmur 'till then, now there was an uneasy, dead silence echoing around. She cursed under her breath out of shock. This was not what she was expecting, at all. "You can't do that." She finally said.

I couldn't help smiling as I whispered in her ear. "Told you not to trust him, didn't I?" I dragged her to the center of the cage, right below the dangling chains and ropes, and raised my voice so the audience could hear. "This is not a fight, my dear, this is a show. Don't try to fight me -- you'll only get hurt."

The eerie silence kept ringing in my ears as one of the chains rattled downwards, the final foot split in two, a huge fishing hook dangling from each tip. Shit.

Cage (3) - Black

Andrei locked the door after she left, and looked at me, beaming. Again the Void showing up in his glistening eyes.

"Why do this."

"It's not my fault if she's crazy enough to agree, is it?" He walked up to me, 'till he was awkwardly close. "Say, Sandy... would you do me a favor? Huh?"

SHIT. "Don't. Don't ask me this. I won't."

He grabbed my hands in a friendly gesture, his tone slightly condescending. "Sandy, don't be like that. I'm only asking for a favor. Okay? ... I'm being nice."

"Stop it. That's--"

In a split second, he got all serious -- ice-cold. "Don't you dare to tell me what to say. You don't want to do it? ... That's fine. But don't forget who you work for. You don't get to tell me to 'stop it', boy."

I sighed. Sometimes he could be like trying to walk through a minefield -- no wonder why happened what happened with Key. She was like a pogo-stick.

He grinned again. "Sandy, You don't have to. But I'm asking you a favor. I'd love to see what you can actually do, you know. Who you really are. Without all that prejudices nonsense. Please." Shit, he was trying hard.

"Don't do this."

"Let me see what you're made of, Sandy. Do that for me." He was now definitely hugging me, gently, softly.

Damn. "Will you... help with suggestions?"

"Only if you want."

I sighed yet again. "Let me talk to her."

He smirked at my suggestion. "No, this is what's going to happen. First, you say yes. Then you can go talk to her, and then you can change your mind if you want. But in that order."

"Fine."

"Say it."

"I'll do it."

"What's it."

Shit. "... I'll do whatever you ask."

He'd been in front of me all the time, but suddenly he was right behind me, hugging me like there was nothing else to do. "That's my boy."

I let my mind drift. Shit, I knew how this would end, I knew it. I knew it too damn well. Shit. His warm hug wasn't enough anymore. Or was it? I let it drown me, take my soul for a split second. "What do you want me to do, anyway."

"Break her. Not literally. But, you know. Show her what hell is. Make her realize we're worse than her past. Make sure she can't possibly forget you. That sort of thing. Oh, and trust me on this, don't try to convince her to stop it. ... You can change your mind, but she won't."

Shit. "... Then what's the whole point of talking to her, huh?"

"I guess you do have a point." He smiled, softly, warmly. "Oh, one more thing." He opened a small locker and took a clothes bag out of it. "Just so you don't have to come back, this is for you."

I opened it. A black suit, with a matching shirt. Shit. And then he'd say I've always had a choice. Yeah, the choice of a train without brakes going downhill. To keep going forward -- speeding down towards hell. I put the thing on.

He smirked. "I have to admit, black suits you, Sandy."

Cage (2) - Winner

Five minutes later, someone knocked on the door. Andrei left me and unlocked it. "Come in." He was beaming. "Close the door, darling."

The winner girl was there. She was quite wary -- I would have guessed she knew him. "I've come for the money." In the semi-darkness of the VIP room, she looked older -- I'd say in her early twenties. She was much prettier from up close -- her dark skin and curly, short hair made her an exotic beauty.

Andrei quickly wrote her a check. "Here, this is yours." He pointed at me with his head. "Now, before you go, I think my friend here would like to talk to you."

No, I didn't. ... But I did. I looked at her.

She was obviously uneasy about this. "What do you want."

"I'm... I guess I'm just curious. Why do this."

"Pays well."

I walked up to her, and softly caressed the scar on her cheek. "Is this...? ... Do you work at the club?" The club was a curious place, if by curious you mean sick and twisted. Never mind the basement cage fights -- what happened upstairs was even worse. Being a club worker, the mark on the cheek meant she'd do special clients. So, yeah, she had seen everything.

"Used to. This pays better. A night a month, and that's about all the money I ever need."

"... Is it worth it? I mean, why not, like, leave this hell? ... Could you?"

"Why would I? ... It pays well enough to keep coming."

"And if you lose?"

"I try again. I have nothing to lose, anyway."

"The other girl wouldn't say the same."

"I don't know how much do you know him, but..." She brushed my cheek --the ever healing wound-- with her fingertips. "Someone like you should know that, once you get to know him, you realize there's nothing to lose. You realize you've already lost everything."

"I know him quite well, actually. That's why I'm asking."

"You ever been, you know, on the other side?"

I smiled at her. "You don't get to know him without giving up your very soul, don't you think?"

"Then why are you here. How can you be here."

I shrugged. "Beats me. But what about you. How did you end up in this place."

She finally smiled. "I was just an idiot of a kid. I fell in love with an older guy, and run away from home to be with him. Except he wasn't the nice guy I had thought, he worked for the mob. He made me work in a brothel." She showed me her wrist, a crudely done barcode tattoo. I had heard of those. "That was hell, I'll tell you. Then..." She pointed at Andrei with her head. "He rescued all of us. Offered us a job. Not nice, but definitely better. And I've been here ever since."

Same old story. It always made me sick, knowing well that he could have offered them a real chance at a new life, and instead... he never did.

She turned around to leave, but Andrei was leaning against the closed door, smiling creepily. "Darling, before you go... Say, how much have you made tonight?"

"Enough." She was back to cold indifference, trying in vain to hide the fear.

"Andrei..." I muttered.

"Shut up, Sandy." He kept talking to her, his usual sick grin showing up in his eyes. "Give me a number."

"About ten in bets. Plus the special prize."

"So... twenty thousand, huh? Okay, so, what do you say if I offer you another twenty, huh? Just a private show, if you follow me."

Shit. No, you bastard, she's had enough... hasn't she? ... I didn't say a word -- I knew he wouldn't listen anyway.

"I've made enough for today. Now, let me go."

He sighed. "Okay, okay. Let me make you another offer, huh? A hundred. Down there. A fight against me."

She seemed to realize that it wouldn't be that easy to get out of there. Plus he'd risen the money bar a lot and a half -- now saying no wasn't so easy. "... What happens if I say no."

"Nothing, really. But, think of it, it's a lot of money. You could get a nice vacation, forget about this place for a while. Or disappear and never come back, for all I care."

She looked at him. The fool was thinking making a deal with the devil could be a good idea. "Double it. Two hundred."

Andrei grinned. "Are you sure about that? ... More money means putting more of a show."

"So, how bad can -- what, half an hour?... How bad can it be?"

"Hell." He wasn't even trying to convince her. Shit. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"... Why should I, then?"

He sighed, apparently frustrated. Though I could clearly see through his mask. He opened the door. "Fine. Then go. I won't insist anymore."

She stepped out, apparently sure of herself. Andrei was closing the door when she turned around. "Wait. Two hundred and fifty. Thousand." She offered her hand to seal the deal.

"I won't try to trick you, darling." He shook her hand. "Go to the waiting room, get ready. ... Place some bets if you want, just know that you won't win, okay? I'll be down in a moment."

Cage (1) - Glass

Andrei had told me to pay him a visit before leaving work that day, so there I went. He took me to one of his clubs. I just followed him into the imposing building, in complete silence. Don't know what I was expecting, but definitely not what I was about to see. He was just softly pulling me by my hand, a warm reminder. ... Not too sure of what.

I was surprised when he led me downstairs -- to the basement. Straight to the VIP room. The thick glass muted the roaring people outside and provided a nice view of what they were screaming about. Cage fights. ... Told you I wasn't expecting that -- not from what was essentially a brothel, anyway.

I looked at him, nervous. Knowing well that he was behind it all. That he was the devil himself, and didn't bother with a disguise anymore. I didn't want to look at what was happening in the cage. Two young girls, more interested in giving off a good show --to the other's dismay-- than anything else. A special challenge, Andrei told me. The winner gets an extra ten thousand -- out of his pocket, of course.

I leaned my back against the glass, my eyes glued on him. Knowing what was happening just a handful of feet behind me made me sick. Knowing that he was the one behind it... Shit.

"Why did you brought me here."

"I thought you'd like it." He smiled. Softly. Trying hard to be nice. It only made it hurt more.

"So, how much do they earn," I asked, knowing well leaving wasn't an option.

"It's all bets. Depends on what they're willing to risk. Some guys have gotten out of drowning debts in a night. Some others do it for the thrill of the fight." He kept inching ever closer to me.

"... How much do you get out of it."

"No commissions, though I do have guys placing bets. ... Sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. It's all fair."

"... They're not rigged?"

"Not unless I have a serious reason to, and then I'm most likely to step in myself." He grinned -- no need to explain. "Are you afraid of watching?" He grabbed me and turned me around like a puppet, forcing me to face the glass -- the cage. He hugged me from the back, his arms gripping me steadily, making sure I wouldn't turn around.

"Why do this." I closed my eyes. I couldn't look.

He let his chin rest comfortably on my shoulder. "It's not my fault if they're stupid enough to get in there. If they're greedy enough to take the risk."

"Risk?"

His voice was eerily soft -- yet far from his usual creepy whisper. "Well... there's one rule -- nobody dies. But some do end up quite badly beaten up. And as you can see... most of the time is more about pride than about money or pain."

No, I couldn't see 'cause I still had my eyes closed. But I had had a couple flashes of it at first. It was truly sickening. And keep in mind I've seen about everything.

There was an obvious smile in the way he was talking. "Open your eyes, Sandy. Watch it. Have fun. It's not your fault, you can enjoy the show."

"I hate this. You know." I opened my eyes. I'll spare you the details of what was happening in the cage.

"Why do you care so much about everything, Sandy."

I simply sighed. I guess he could never understand what it is to understand.

The commentator soon announced a winner, and opened the cage to give her the first part of the special prize -- a bucket of paint, so she could wreck every last bit of the other girl's pride. The crowd cheered wildly at her. I couldn't help to close my eyes as I felt Andrei's grin in my ear.

"That was unnecessary." I muttered.

"I don't think she'd agree with you."

Sandy

I was in the small park near home, in the late evening, minding my own business. The streetlights had been on for a while already, the whole place was deserted. I liked that place, that very bench, as a sort of hideout. A place to go and just turn the mind off and stare at the snowed trees and the icy ground and the cracked walkways.

I was so focused on my mind trip that I never saw Key coming. To me, she materialized out of thin air, sitting by my side, when she said an almost cold "Hey."

I didn't so much as look at her. "Hi."

"Just wanted to see how you're doing."

"Fine." Well, fine before you came poking your nose, that is. If things were cold before we came to Moscow, everything had gone to hell since then.

She grabbed my hand and harshly took my glove off. "Then what's this." Four or five lines crossed my hand – each one a wound in a different stage of healing. A few more were just recently healed, and still were a bright pink.

"You wouldn't understand." How could she. She, who had brought me there. A fighter, never wondering if any of it was wrong, just taking it. And then she'd talk about principles. Ironic.

"Well, I won't if you don't try, that's for sure. But I'm willing to give my best." In silence, she took a knife from her pocket and handed it to me.

Trying to mess with my mind. As always. "I don't have to follow your orders anymore."

"You never had to."

Sigh. "At least stop lying to yourself, Key." I grabbed my phone and quickly located some of the old files in the global archive. Of those times when she'd done to me the same thing Andrei did to her. "You two are the same." I handed her the phone.

"I never said I'm better than anyone." That speech again. "But I always tried to teach you to stand for yourself, to fight."

I finally looked at her in the eyes. "First, stop lying. I never had a choice. While now, I do. And second, it doesn't matter. An honorable end doesn't make it hurt any less."

"You think now you have a choice?"

"I know it for a fact," I replied coldly. Did I know? Did I care? Who knows.

She sighed and looked down, absentmindedly fidgeting with the knife in her hands. "Yeah. I thought that too. You know, when we came here. I bought into all that bullshit. I let him convince me. And look how it ended."

"You made your choices, you know. You two could have gone on vacation. Just a while. Or disappear. Andrei wouldn't have minded. In fact, he gave you the option. But you were too stubborn to accept it."

"Yeah, same as you can go on vacation now." She was as sarcastic as ever.

"I thought it was you who used to say we are our choices and not our past. Who said you were in all this 'cause you wanted to. 'Cause every day you decided not to quit. But of course, that was before coming here, wasn't it?"

"See. Thing is, I was like you, just a few months ago. So sure I had the correct answer."

"News flash, I'm not you. I like it here. For the same reason I liked working for you. So, stop it. You two are not that different."

"I always tried to teach you to fight. ... But I admit I have made many mistakes, Sandy." She pointed at the phone. Those old files. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry it ended up like this."

"Why are you even here, Key."

She grabbed my hand again. "You never did this back then."

I got up, decided to leave. I didn't have to listen to her rants. But she didn't let go. "Sandy, please. I just want to talk, okay?"

"You want an answer? I did much worse. I did everything you asked. Everything for you. This–" I opened my hand for her to see, "–this I did for me. Now let me go."

"Please, Sandy. I just want to help." She was still holding onto my wrist. Like a cold shackle– doesn't hurt, but you can't seem to get free of it. "Sandy. You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you? ... And then there's this." This being my hand. "So, don't blame it all on me."

I finally sat back. If she wanted answers she'd have them. "But it's all your fault. You taught me to like the job, and you brought me here. I tried quitting one too many times, and you know it."

Again she opened my hand. "So, how is this my fault. Sandy." She handed me the knife again. "I just want to understand."

I took a breath. "Yet you said you wanted me to fight. So you know what? I'll fight. I'm not doing that."

She seemed to realize the consequences of her words, of the whole 'I want you to be free' speech. Yet she managed to put on a soft smile. "Of course. Silly me. Okay. I'll do it myself."

I couldn't tear my eyes away as she took the knife to her wrist and sliced it open. Deep. It started bleeding quite badly. I grabbed her arm, at least putting some pressure on the cut to slow down the blood.

She was now grinning. "So, you do care. Why? I mean, you know well it's nothing. You know I'm not an idiot who doesn't know what's doing."

"You know you've gone too deep, dammit," I muttered behind my teeth. "It's bleeding badly. We have to stop it, or at least slow it down. Then you can show me how it's nothing, if you want."

"Sandy, stop it. It really is nothing, and you know it. Let go and check for yourself."

I let go of her arm. No, it wasn't nothing. She had nicked a couple arteries, no wonder it bled that much. But, well, now it seemed stable, new blood lazily trickling out.

"Well. I'm no closer to understanding you. It hurts. And that's about it."

Shit, she was good at making you rethink everything. But I knew her all too well. I knew she didn't believe half of what she said. "I told you you wouldn't understand."

She showed her bloody wrist. "Well, I'm trying, but you're not helping."

I just sighed. I would have gotten up and left, but I knew she wouldn't let me.

She kept insisting. "You think I've never been there, don't you? You think I don't know what it is. Where you are."

"I've told you you're not better than him. So stop it."

"And I've told you you're right, and there's a difference, but that's not even what I mean. I don't mean the now. I'm not even talking about him."

Bunch of bullshit. I looked at her.

"I know well what is it to have nothing. It–"

I interrupted her. "I do have something, thanks."

"You know what I mean. You know why I don't care about this." She pointed at her wrist. "It's only a bit of pain. After everything I've gone through, this is nothing. I had to learn to fight, Sandy."

I couldn't help smiling. "And look where it got you." She was broken, doing a desk job she hated. All for surviving. You'd think a fighter– no, you'd think a lunatic like her, would have chosen some other path. Especially after spending half her life saying there's always a choice.

She sighed. "You're not listening. And I'm still not any closer to understanding why you've done that." She pointed at my hand. "You know why I think is that? Even you don't understand. That's why you can't explain it."

Again I looked at her. This all was ridiculous. "You know who actually cares? ... Who tries to comfort me instead of whatever the hell is it you're doing?" Andrei. "Exactly."

"And you know well why–"

"Yes. 'Cause he cares. That's why. Get over it. He's better than you, Key. With me at least."

"I care for you, Sandy. That's why I'm trying to understand."

"No. you're trying to make me stop. You're not helping. And you don't give a shit about not helping."

"Sandy, I just want to help you. I just..."

"Well, congrats. Do you want a prize for that? Too late." I sighed. Damn, she was hard to reason with. Stubborn as a rock, I'm telling you. "I guess you do care. In your own sick and twisted way. So, stop it." I got on my feet again, but again she grabbed my wrist.

"Sandy. Please. Don't be like this. You know I actually care about you."

"Yeah. Enough to not be able to keep me around for more than a few weeks during the past, what, five years? Stop lying to yourself, at least." It always broke my heart when she pulled me back in, only to get too absorbed in work and forget about me in less than a month.

"You think he'll always be there?"

"I don't even care, Key."

"Sandy. You know well this won't last. He'll sooner or later find another toy. That's–"

"Same as you did, huh? Well then. That would be one more thing you two have in common."

She sighed. "You know I never did it on purpose. You know–"

"I know you didn't care enough to keep me around. I know you didn't care enough to realize that, and kept pulling me back, trying to make it work. When it was obvious it wouldn't. And I know I was enough of a fool to believe you every single time. Now, let me go. Whatever it was we once had, it's over, and you don't get to grab my hand to make me stay anymore."

I knew she wouldn't let me, so I pulled. And finally got free of her freezing grip. "Don't bother anymore, Key. It's over. I'll always care about you. But I don't have to listen to your nonsense anymore."

"I'm not–"

"The only one doing it, yeah. Cut that crap. You brought me here, don't act surprised that I've found someone who gives me what you can't." I finally turned around and left.

I walked at a steady pace, headed to nowhere. Back then, we were still living all together –Key, the guys, and me, that is. Going home meant she'd knock on the door for endless hours. I aimed for the city center. I had a credit card with me, I could rent a room in a cheap hotel.

As I was wandering, my mind kept going back to one thought. He'd leave me too, sooner or later. I had lied when I said I didn't care. I could accept it, of course. Key had done it enough times for me to easily get over it. But that's not even remotely the same as not caring. My heart and my head both hurt. I cared too damn much.

I was going around that idea over and over. Thinking how would it end. How would it feel. What would I do. Too focused to notice the world around me. I had been waiting forever for a red light to go green, when a car, a big SUV, stopped right before me. The window rolled down. "Get in, Sandy." Andrei.

I didn't want to. Not after what I had been thinking the last half an hour. I just wanted to run away and be done with it. If it was going to end, then the sooner, the better.

He got off the car and circled around it to hug me from the back. "Come with me, Sandy."

I let him get me into the car, my mind lost in the silent noise of the city night. He got in after me and drove, apparently to nowhere. Or at least I didn't know where we were going. Soon, he stopped the car in a poorly lit alley. I looked at him. There was no one in sight. The place made me feel uneasy. Something in me screamed to run the hell away from there. Yet I didn't.

"We're there. Come with me." He opened the door for me.

It took me a lot of self-control to not fall to my knees and just cry, and also to not run away like I'd seen the devil. I followed him to a side door, only a couple steps over the road. He unlocked it with his card. That meant nothing. A safe house is only as safe as the people you are locked in with. So, not safe at all this time, I told myself.

I followed him inside, still uneasy as hell. The door locked itself. Great. Would an L5 card open it? Officially yes. I doubted it actually would.

He turned around and saw me, trying hard not to fall to my knees and turn into a ball, my fists clenched tight to hide their shaking. And he hugged me. Softly, caring. "Calm down, Sandy. I just figured you didn't want to go back with the guys tonight. Yeah, I've heard the whole thing. I'm here for you." He dragged me to a couch and sat me, again gently. "Look, boy. I don't care what she thinks she knows. I won't leave you. Okay?"

I looked at him. That was not what I was expecting. At all.

"I couldn't, Sandy. ... I couldn't possibly do that. And now you'll think that she used to say the same, but... I'm not her. I swear I won't leave you." He hugged me again, this time harder. And I knew he was telling the truth.

"Thanks," I muttered to myself, as I too hugged him.

The warm embrace didn't last nearly long enough, though. He soon grabbed my arms, putting some distance. So he could look into my eyes. "That said, you're still free to go. I won't ever hold you back where you don't want to be."

I hugged him again. "I won't leave."